Moments
by StarDreamer02
Summary: He stands in air and sunshine and memories, and she can never - quite - touch - him. a story of love, lost and found. (minor Neverseen spoilers)


She doesn't show up to the next council session. She says she's in mourning. Technically her mourning period is over; the Council has to get to work, mitigate the damage. But there are too many memories entwined in the intricate carvings of his wooden chair, empty now (how many times did she run her hand over the armrests when she was worried? how many times did he stop her, with his hand over hers and a _calm down, Oralie_? how many times did he transmit _it'll be fine_ , and entwine his fingers with hers?), and so she stays at home. But she can't get away from the memories there either: they are wound around every chair and table and wall in her house. Every time she breathes, she breathes in a little piece of him, and when she breathes out, a little piece of him is gone. So she flees, up to her room. He follows her. He's there, whispering in the breeze that blows through the windows (she grabs them and wrenches them closed), standing in the sunshine streaming through the glass (she slams the blinds down), and even then, in the darkness and the silence, he surrounds her, and she curls up and cries.

* * *

It's a miracle she makes it through the funeral still standing. It's a miracle she makes it through the funeral at all, when every moment she wants to crumble to her knees and sob until she runs out of tears. But she is a Councillor: she is supposed to be strong, a role model; she is supposed to show the populace that the Council is still standing. She can't, though, because it's not true, she _isn't_ still standing (just because you're not broken doesn't mean you're whole). So she does what she's always done, when it comes to falling: she falls halfway. She falls, but she never hits the ground; instead, she stays in a kind of limbo: not falling, not broken, but not intact either. It's the only way she's ever fallen (that's not quite true. she's fallen, fully fallen, just once, for Kenric. but that was when she knew Kenric would catch her before she hit the ground. now, Kenric's arms are not there to keep her safe anymore, and if she falls she will smash, and break, and shatter)

* * *

The cache is almost mesmerizing, as Oralie spins it around and around in her hands, multicolored stones gently knocking the sides of the glass sphere. It shouldn't be so pretty - it does contain the most dangerous secrets of the elvin world, after all - but it's almost beautiful, bewitching. Part of her wants it out of her hands immediately, because it contains terrible, horrible things (they were forgotten for a reason). But part of her . . . it's the last thing she has of his, and part of her thinks if she lets it go, she'll lose him forever, and she'll be left reaching for nothing but memories and ghosts. She doesn't have much of a choice though; it was the last thing Kenric asked her, on the night before Fintan burned her world to ashes. She has to honor that. And so she gets up and reaches for her diamond cloak (the circlet stays behind. she doesn't like wearing it, not anymore). Oralie throws the hood over her head and holds her pathfinder to the light.

* * *

She approaches the cylinder warily. The Black Swan insignia is engraved on the top, but Oralie's not entirely sure she can trust them. Then again, the enemy of her enemy is her friend, and so she walks over and pops the cap. A small, rolled piece of parchment slides into her hand.

 _Someone wants to see you. Those who wander are not lost._

She's honestly confused at first. The second line, _those who wander_ , that has to be the Wanderling Woods, but _someone wants to see you_? She doesn't understand why, or for what, and it's a little worrying. But still, Sophie trusts the Black Swan, and besides, they _are_ fighting the Neverseen, so she goes. She slips a melder into the folds of her cloak as she leaves, though (better safe than sorry, after all).

* * *

The Black Swan is already waiting for her when she gets there. They stand in the shadows, black cloaks hiding their faces. One of them, a woman with her hood back, dark curls tumbling down her shoulders, steps forward. Oralie's never seen her before.

"Oralie?"  
"Y-yes?"

The woman's lips curve up, just a little.

Someone wants to see you." she says.

Another person steps from the shadows, his hood up. He reaches for the edge of the hood, grabs it, and slowly pulls the fabric back from the edge of his face.

Oralie's heart stops.

It's Kenric.

Kenric is standing in front of her, and she can't believe it. For a moment, she thinks this is just another memory, another ghost sent to torture her.

"Kenric?"

It's all the questions she wants to ask: _is it you? are you real?_

"Oralie."

And then she runs to him and wraps her arms around him, because he's real, he's alive and he's here and he's _real_.

"Kenric."

Later, she will demand an explanation as to why he looks half-starved, and she'll listen as he stumbles through a story of captures and rescues; later, she will take him home and take care of him until he heals; later, she will watch (and try to hide her laughter) as Sophie and her friends nearly tackle him in joy. But for now, he's alive, and he's real and he's here and his arms are around her, and that's all Oralie really needs.

* * *

 **Hi guys! So, this is completely un-betaed, so if it sounds terrible or is full of typos, you know why. This is also my first KOTLC fanfic, so tell me how I did! Reviews are life, after all. This story is dedicated to one of my best friends, waterfallphoenix, who has asked for a Kenric/Oralie fanfic many, many times. Happy (belated) birthday, girl!**


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